I Remember
by The Mouse of Anon
Summary: Everyone thinks I forget. They think I have a short memory. You'd be surprised. ...Just a look at the mind of our favorite Neverland boy. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Peter Pan or anything connected to it except for the idea of my version of him.  
  
Author's Note: I've read a good portion of Peter Pan fics, and I finally decided to get off my lazy arse and show the world my version of him. So therefore, read, enjoy, review, etc. C&C is greatly appreciated and welcome.**

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Everyone thinks I forget. They think I have a short memory. You'd be surprised. All the time I've lived, all these centuries... I remember. I remember very vaguely why I came to Neverland, and how. I remember how I got turned into an elf by my mother. Yes, I had a mother in Neverland, an adoptive one. Dawn Mist, a fairy with a silver glow and a voice like singing bells. I also had an aunt, my mother's sister. Her name was Morning Dew and she had a golden glow. I grew up with fairies; that's why one of my names is Peter Fairy's Child. Unlike all of the humans that have come here over the years, I don't need fairy dust to fly. It's infused within me... I am fey, I'm an elf. Albeit, a highly unusual one I'm willing to bet. I wouldn't really know, despite how long my life has been I've never met another elf. Neverland changed me. No one alive now knows that I once had normally rounded ears rather than pointed ones. No one knows that I didn't originally have fangs. No one knows that, while yes, Wendy "taught" me how to read, I was able to read centuries before she was born. No one knows my greatest secret, except for one person. My worst enemy; my best friend: Captain James Hook.

Yeah, kind of a shocker huh? To think, Hook used to be a kid I was best friends with. ...To think I'm older than he is and he knows it. He was one of the original lost boys. I wasn't the leader back then; I was more of a loner. The leader at the time didn't like that much. He always had this rule of, "Either you're with the lost boys or you aren't. You can't be half- way about it." To tell the truth we didn't get along that well. Who was he? Rufio. Surprised? Yeah, the movies got it messed up. Rufio didn't come after I did. He came before I did, and he was about as bad as the pirates. Most of the lost boys back then were about as bad as the pirates. Not that you could get Rufio to admit that, or Black Hawk either for that matter. They hated each other with a passion and both the leader of the lost boys and the pirate captain would have ripped your spine out through your stomach for suggesting it. I know this because I've got plenty of scars from both. I was actually hit hard enough by Rufio to leave a black and blue hand-shaped bruise on my cheek once. It stayed there without fading for a month. I've got a scar near my right shoulder where Black Hawk plunged a sword through once. I haven't forgotten.

I haven't forgotten my hatred of both of them. I haven't forgotten how James betrayed the lost boys, betrayed me, and joined up with the pirates. I haven't forgotten the screams of the lost boys as they were slaughtered. I still wake up from nightmares where I watch my old friend Peregrin dieing as James and the pirates laugh. I wake up from nightmares where Rufio is still alive and seeking to control me. This is ignoring the fact that I don't know what happened to him in the end. Only two real lost boys survived the whole ordeal that James caused, and those were Jamie himself and Rufio (and he left Neverland behind). As for me, I was Peter Pan the Elf, and I had no allegiance with either the lost boys or the pirates. Not after all that had happened to me. All the same though, while I didn't like most of the lost boys, none of them deserved to die in the way that they did. There are times where I actually lay awake at night and wonder if I had gotten there just a few minutes earlier if I could have saved some of them. I don't talk about any of this to the current lost boys, they're just kids. They'll never become teens like most of the lost boys were back in Rufio's day. None of the ones from today want to grow up.

In keeping with being honest I have to say this; they don't want to grow up because of me. I made them dislike the idea. I wanted them to hate the idea. Why? Because I didn't want a repeat of the hell Rufio caused. James hasn't forgotten, I know that much. He's even revealed as much one of the few times I've been caught. Then again, that was back when Jane visited. She certainly was a surprise. I hadn't thought someone like her could ever possibly come from the same family line as her mother, Wendy had. I was proven wrong. Proof that even at my indeterminable age you learn something new every day. It's funny; even I don't know how old I am. If I got really curious I suppose I could ask the fairies, they'd tell me. Besides, last time I checked all the old queens that were around when I was a little kid were still alive. Then again that was ten years ago. I know all too well how much can change in ten years.

So why the façade? Why do I keep on acting like a kid and hiding the truth from everyone I come across? It's because the old memories hurt too much. Because my past has left me with wounds so deep that just thinking about it makes me want to cry. It makes me want to scream out my sorrows to the universe in every fey language I know of, knowing that it could cause one of the worst storms Neverland has ever seen. I don't want to think about Rufio, James, Black Hawk, or any of their like. I don't want to think about all the friends I've lost; all the friends I've watched die for stupid reasons and been unable to help. I don't want to think of all my failures, of all the misery I've seen. Caused by others and caused by me. I don't want to remember, but I do remember. I remember seeing Peregrin get a sword through the ribs after he'd been fighting for his life valiantly for hours. I remember watching Sparking Briar's glow fade slowly as Black Hawk yelled at full volume "I don't believe in fairies" five times. Sparking Briar (the one and only psychotic exiled fairy who had been my best friend for a good portion of my life), had never been one to give in easily.

It hurt watching them die. It hurt hearing screams echoing in my mind for years afterward, and knowing I had been unable to do _anything_. So I try to forget. I act like an idiot. I act like a kid. I goof off and enjoy the good times as much as I can. Even so, I'll never be able to forget. I'll never be able to forget like everyone thinks I do, as much as I wish it were otherwise. Why can't I forget? Even just a little? Because I'm Peter Pan, Pan the Elf, Peter the fey, Peter fairy's child, and all the other names I've accumulated. I can't forget because I'll never die of old age. I can't forget because I'm an elf. I'm immortal, and with all the bad memories I've got, sometimes I'm surprised I haven't committed suicide yet. I won't though. I've never allowed myself to come close. I have too much to live for, and besides, the lost boys need me. Normal kids who live in the middle of everyday boring lives need me to give them a little adventure. That's what I did for Wendy, her daughter Jane, and countless others. One thing none of them have ever known, I know when they die. I've always returned to the mainland at night as each one dies, and put flowers on their graves. And because I'm alone on those dark nights I finally allow myself to cry, and to remember.

-owari- 

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